Visions 6
by JediMagnet09
Summary: Part of the Visions series...  After a series of hunts leaves the boys exhausted, they are hit by something new, something they don't expect, and even the angels can't help them now as they deal with this new challenge.
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! Thanks for such a wonderful response! I have a couple of stories in the works that I can't wait to get started on, but after hearing so much about this story I decided to add at least one more in the series, while I'm still working on my other projects. Please enjoy and review! :) Oh, and I'm posting a short chapter of my next story! Please read and tell me what you think and whether or not I should continue! :) Thanks!

* * *

_Screams. Horrible, blood-curdling, soul-jerking screams echoed around him, paralysing him with horror, an overwhelming urge to do **something**, anything to ease the sufferings of whoever the screamer was. "**JUST STOP! PLEASE, JUST STOP!" **He couldn't handle any more. The growing suspicion that he **knew**__the screamer just wouldn't stop nagging at him and every passing second, every horrible echo, made the feeling grow stronger. _

_That's when it hit him. _

_**"SAM!" **_

_His baby brother. _

_The screams took on a whole new meaning, each scream ripping a piece of him apart, shredding him slowly and agonizingly. **"SAMMY! SAM! NO! SAM!" **He looked around, but he was surrounded by scenes of Sam, no more than a child, an older teen, a young adult, all screaming. Different memories, each horrible in their own right. Sam's first vision, Sam's first vision at school, Sam collapsing in a parking lot from another vision, Sam lying limp in his arms at a long forgotten park, barely breathing, Sam taking the knife to the chest that was meant for him, bleeding, dying, Sam being tortured by that Yellow Eyed $%^^$, the earth screaming around them, ripping itself to pieces with the force of the storm responding to his suffering. **It'll never end. Who do I help first? What do I do? **Surrounded by his worst nightmare, Dean just didn't know what to do. Dying, Sam was dying, always dying. **What do I do? Sam! Sam, no! Don't leave me! Please Sammy, don't die!** **"SAMMY! SAM! SAMMY, PLEASE! NO!" **_

"Dean!"

_**"SAMMY!"**_

"Dean, wake up! You're dreaming, man, wake up!"

Dean sat up in bed, chest heaving, quickly glancing around him, taking in every detail. Sam, sitting on the bed beside him, looking thoroughly freaked and worried. The darkness outside. The freaking ugly yellow wallpaper of their motel room. _I was dreaming. _

Dean's muscles relaxed and he turned to give his brother a better look.

Sam was watching him, looking worried, even frightened, and Dean realized he must have been crying out for Sam in his sleep. _How embarrassing. _

"I'm fine, Sam. Go back to sleep."

Sam eyed him skeptically, but he couldn't quite banish the fear in his eyes. "Dean, you were _screaming_, man."

Dean sighed. _How ironic. _"Heaven knows we've seen enough in this job to have plenty of reasons for unpleasant dreams, Sam. I'm fine. It's not the first nightmare I've had, it won't be the last." _Oh, please, let it be the last. No more of those. Any nightmares but those. _

Sam sighed, but nodded. "Alright. Just...wake me if...if you need me, okay?" Clapping a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder, Sam stood and returned to his own bed.

Dean laid back down, but he knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night.

...

"I think it's a spirit." Sam announced the next morning.

The hunt they were on had seemed pretty straight forward at first, but after another death was added to the rising toll, they knew it wasn't going to be as easy as they had thought initially.

"All the signs are there." Dean agreed. "Flickering lights, cold spots, heck even my watch stopped."

Sam nodded. "Alright. Now we just have to figure out who it is."

...

A morning at the library produced the information they needed.

"Okay. There have been 12 deaths due to drowning in the lake in the last two years. The first of that twelve seems to me like it's the most violent, the most likely to be, ah, ghost producing."

Dean snorted at that. "Ghost producing?" he teased.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Anyway, two years ago, on April 23rd, 25 year old Max Stevens went out on a boat with his buddies on the lake. There was a storm and the boat came back without him. He was reported to have fallen off and immediately gone under. They couldn't find him in the storm. So, about a month later, we have another drowning in the lake. The month after that, there's another. And so on and so forth. Each of the deaths was on the 23rd of that month and each occurred in the late afternoon, which was when the worst of the storm hit the lake and about when Max died." Sam explained.

Dean nodded, absorbing the information, then asked the key question. "His body?"

Sam winced.

_That's not good. _Dean sighed. "What?"

"They pulled his body out of the lake and his parents had him cremated."

Dean fell back on the motel bed with a loud groan of frustration.

"So what is he attached to? The boat?"

Sam's brows furrowed as he thought. "A year after the accident, the boat sank. It's at the bottom of the lake. But what else could he be tied to? His ashes?"

Dean shook his head. "Unlikely. Anything he was wearing saved? A necklace, shirt, pants, underwear, anything?" Dean smirked.

Sam sighed. "No. Not that I've been able to find."

"My guess is the boat then." Dean didn't sound happy at that.

"Well...crap. Now what?"

...

"This is a stupid idea."

"What? No it's not! It's brilliant."

"Dean, this is never going to work!"

"Why not?"

"It's just not!"

"You have some vision you didn't tell me about?"

"No."

"Then you have no way of knowing this won't work!"

Sam sighed. "Dean. I know the telekinesis is handy, but come on, man, I haven't lifted anything heavier than you. How am I going to lift a _boat_?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Did you just call me fat?"

Sam threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "You're impossible."

Dean simply grinned. "Thank you. I do try."

The boat sped along on the lake, Sam tracking their movements on the map, directing Dean towards the supposed site of the boat's resting place on the bottom of the lake.

"Here, Dean."

Dean stopped the boat, heading cautiously over to the edge. "So he's not supposed to attack, right? It's the 22nd, so we should be safe. Supposedly."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. But if he realizes what we're trying to do, he'll defend himself."

Dean grimaced. "Let's do this quickly then. I'd rather not have to stop a ghost from drowning you."

Sam frowned. "Why me? It isn't necessarily going to drown me."

"Uh, Sam, everything goes for you. It's like a supernatural rule or something."

Sam chuckled. "I suppose I can't really argue with that." Closing his eyes, he reached out with his mind, searching for the remains of the boat. His mind clamped down on something and Sam realized he had found what he was looking for.

"Just put in on the distant shore, Sammy. We want it as far away from any prying eyes as possible." Dean warned, softly, trying not to break his concentration.

Sam nodded, just as his mind exploded with a desperate warning. "DEAN!"

Too late. The ghost's invisible hands grabbed Dean, pulling him out of the boat and into the water.

"DEAN!" Sam leaned over the edge, unconsciously, as he immediately lashed out with his mind, doing a mental equivalent of slapping the ghost upside the head _hard_ to stun it (hopefully) long enough that he could grab Dean.

The ghost simply responded with a mental push back that sent Sam reeling back and falling hard to the floor of their boat.

Desperate, Sam reached out with his mind and latched onto the writhing form of his brother. He couldn't see him, but he could feel it, his mind attuned to Dean's in a way that it was to no one else's. He wrapped his own invisible hold around his brother and _pulled_.

The ghost fought back, but Sam wasn't a Winchester for no reason. He had inherited the famous Winchester stubborn streak and perhaps held the title of most stubborn. At least where Dean's life was concerned. With another hard pull, the ghost lost its grip on his big brother and Sam quickly pulled Dean to the surface. Reaching over the edge, Sam grabbed Dean's shirt collar and hauled his lifeless form up into the boat.

"Dean? Hey, man, can you hear me?" Panic filled the youngest Winchester's mind as he registered the stillness of Dean's limbs, chest. Desperately, Sam knocked Dean on the back hard several times and immediately Dean came to life, coughing up water.

Roles reversed for once, Sam rubbed Dean on the back, hoping it was as soothing to Dean as it always had been to him.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked once Dean finally stilled.

Dean nodded, breathlessly. "Yeah. Stupid ghost." he threw his baby brother an amused look. "Did you seriously just have a tug of war with that ghost with my body?"

Sam smirked. "Yeah. Didn't have a rope."

Dean snorted, falling back to the floor of the boat with a sigh. "I hate ghosts."

"You hate everything."

"Do not. I love women. I love the Impala. And sometimes I like you. When you aren't being a little #%#$."

"Jerk. That's not a very nice thing to say to the man who just saved your life."

"Hey, with as many times as I've saved your life? You aren't even close to even with me. I get to make fun of you for the rest of your natural and unnatural life, baby brother."

Sam sighed. "I figured."

The boat suddenly rocked violently.

Sam cursed, pushing himself to his feet, gesturing for Dean to stay down on the floor. "You're less likely to get yanked out of the boat that way and I'm _not_ going to get yanked out." Sam gave a quick explanation to his irritated brother. Closing his eyes, Sam moved faster this time, reaching out for the boat. _Come on, come on. I gotta be able to do this. It's the only way. _Finding the boat, he wrapped his power around it, took a deep breath, then _pulled_. The ghost fought him, but Sam was stronger and knew he was. The boat remains rose out of the water, hovering for a second, before Sam managed to move them over to the distant shore, deeper into the trees to avoid it being seen before they were ready. As soon as he set it down, the boat rocked violently again, the spirit furious and showing it.

He turned to look at Dean to see his brother staring at him incredulously. "I don't believe it."

Sam grinned at him, a challenging smirk crossing his face. "_That _is why you fail."

Dean gave him a confused look, then rolled his eyes. "Yoda. Right. Geez. I'm supposed to be the Star Wars quoter, Sammy. Did you scramble those brains of yours?"

"No. Just decided I wanted to be Yoda instead of Luke for once."

"You'll always be Luke to me, princess."

"Shut up."

...

A few hours later, they sat watching the boat burn. Dean turned to Sam, a pleased look on his face. "You did good, Sam."

Sam gave him a small smile, more shy than it usually was. Compliments from Dean always meant the world to him, his brother's approval being one of the few things that kept him going, especially after he began to have visions and he grew more distant from his father than ever. Growing up, Dean really had been the one to raise him, not John, taking the role of older brother, mother, and father.

"Thanks, Dean." he said softly.

Dean simply nodded, already having turned back to the boat.

A comfortable silence followed, then Dean finally announced it was time to go. "Someone will see the smoke soon and we want to be out of here before they get here. The boat's pretty much gone anyway."

Sam followed his brother out of the clearing, falling into step beside him once they hit the path leading to the parking lot.

"Where to next, Dean?"

"Don't know. Any hunts come up?"

Sam hesitated. "Well, there's one. It's a weird one though."

Dean grinned. "Bring it on."


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy, thanks for all the reviews so far, please keep it up! :) Plenty of the story left to go and believe it or not these stories do have an overarching plot. We're just getting to it. :)

This is the longest chapter I've written in like forever! I loved this monster, though it was thoroughly creepy, of course... Anyway, please enjoy! :)

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"Okay, wait. Let me get this straight. There are victims found crushed in their beds, victims torn to be pieces in graveyards, along with _remains_ of victims after having been fed on. All in the same small town."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I told you it was weird. I mean, none of the normal organs are missing, the attacks don't coordinate with the lunar cycle or any other cycle for that matter. Ghosts don't really do the wide range of attacks we see here." Sam hesitated, then added, "The weather is said to have been really strange recently too."

Dean paused at that. "Demon?"

"Possible."

"Crap, I hate demons."

"Join the club."

"Doesn't really seem like a demon's MO either, though."

"Yeah, but nothing else fits."

"Huh. Guess we'll have to ask around."

...

Dean adjusted his tie for the sixth time since he had put it on, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "This is stupid."

Sam sighed. "We have to figure out some way to talk to these people. Authorities are the most trusted."

"I know, but why suits? They don't wear suits on the crime shows."

Sam raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Right." Then effectively ended the conversation by reaching forward and knocking on the door.

It was opened a second later by a young woman, tears staining her cheeks, distress clear on her face. "Can I help you?"

Dean stiffened and Sam could almost hear his brother thinking _holy crap hot babe_.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Sam smoothly cut over Dean's pause. "But we're with the FBI and were wondering if we could ask you some questions."

The girl nodded, opening the door. As soon as her back was turned, Dean elbowed Sam, who just grinned and moved into the house.

...

"It smelled...awful." the girl said softly. "I mean, it smelled like...like dead body. I grew up on a farm and helped my father take care of one of our old horses that died during the night and...it smelled a lot like that."

"Wow." Sam said softly, his heart moving with compassion for the young woman who had suffered so much over the last few weeks.

"I just...I mean he was just...lying there and his chest was...deformed..."

Dean leaned forward, focusing in on her words. "Wait, only his chest was caved in?"

The girl let out a small sob and nodded. "Yeah, the rest of...him looked fine."

"Did you see anything weird before you went to Ben's house?" Sam asked. "Anything strange or out of place at all?"

The girl was silent for a moment. "Well...um, I don't know why it would matter, but I saw a stray cat in the backyard. I had never seen it around the area before and no one I know in the town owns a cat like that." She hesitated, then continued, "Ben mentioned right before he...that he saw the cat around the house several days in row. He's allergic to cat and it's...it had been messing with his allergies."

"Do you have any idea where Ben was hanging out the few days before he died?"

"He went to all of his usual places, work, the library, you know. But he...he went to the cemetery to visit his parent's graves. He doesn't normally do that. No one really goes to that old cemetery. It's...creepy. Weird things happen there. A couple of people from the town go to clean it up every so often, but since they've all ended up...you know..." she hesitated.

"People are scared." Sam finished softly.

She nodded.

Glancing at Dean, who nodded, Sam stood up, shaking the girl's trembling hand. "Thank you for all the information, Miss."

...

"Clearly tied to the cemetery." Was the first thing Dean said when they got in the car.

"Yeah." Sam was thinking hard, wondering what could have been responsible for this, but came up blank.

"I say we go check it out."

...

Dean split up them. It wasn't their usual during a trip through a cemetery, but under the circumstances, Dean thought it would be wise. People were dying too quickly.

Sam looked over the graves he saw, looking for anything that jumped out at him, hopefully figuratively and not literally.

Then Sam paused. There was a newer grave here, with a large fancy headstone. None of the other graves had been dug in the last several years, so that alone made this one stand out. Plus? It smelled awful. _Just like dead bodies._ Sam thought grimly. He knelt down, examining the name and the date, then stopped when he reached the bottom. _What the heck...? How strange. _He ran his fingers over the symbols there, finding it bothersome that he couldn't place them. _Old language then. Very old and very obscure. _He quickly added it to his mental checklist of things to look up the second he had an internet connection.

"Hey, Sammy! You done?" Dean stood not too far away, watching him.

Sam nodded, standing up and walking towards Dean.

Thus, he didn't see the thin waft of smoke that began to make its way from the grave.

...

"Okay. Dead guy's name?" Dean asked. He was sitting on his bed, the weapons spread out before him, cleaning and checking each of them. It was a familiar routine, one that Sam had always found comforting to watch. He tried not to think too hard about how strange that really was.

"Robert Phillips. Richest man in town and from what I've read he has the personality to fit it. Arrogant, greedy, you name it. He even had most of his wealth buried with him. To protect it, he had his casket sealed shut with something. He also had some phrase inscribed on his gravestone. I sent the image to Bobby and asked him to try to look it up."

Dean froze. "And you _touched it? _Sam, have you lost your everloving mind?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "What-"

"I saw you touch the gravestone, Sammy! It could have be a curse, or...crap, who knows what it was! Whatever's been killing people could have marked you or something now!" Dean was furious, but Sam knew it was all bred from worry.

Sam winced, but the look of confusion was still there. "Sorry, Dean. Just wasn't thinking I guess. I don't...I don't really remember touching it anyway."

Dean paused at that, eyebrows furrowing, then nodded and took a deep breath, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Okay. That's okay. We'll figure it out. In the meantime, don't leave my side, understand? I don't want you wandering off to get ripped to pieces or eaten alive or something."

Sam nodded. It wasn't like he ever really left Dean's side anyway. Dean had long ago passed protective and entered obsessive when it came to Sam's safety.

Not that Sam minded.

...

Dean woke with a start. At first, he wasn't sure what had woken him, but then he heard it again. A small gasp. Like someone struggling for air.

_Sammy! _A sudden panic lit fire in his veins and Dean sat up, hurriedly turning over to look at Sam.

"What the..." Dean didn't quite understand what he was seeing. Sam had...was there a cat sitting on Sam's chest?

Then Dean heard Sam wheeze again, clearly a struggle for breath, and decided he didn't care what the heck it was as long as it got away from his brother. Dean approached his brother's side, cautiously reaching forward to grab the cat. It didn't seem concerned at his touch, nor did it move. At all. Dean had a hold of its middle and pulled up, then froze in shock when it wouldn't budge. If anything, it was getting heavier.

_Crap, what has this cat been __**eating**__?_

Dean pulled again, getting more desperate as Sam's gasps became weaker.

Sam's hand was fisted on either side of him in his blankets, holding onto them with a white-knuckled death grip. It spoke of fright and horror and Dean felt his stomach drop to his toes, an icy chill of fear run through him as he pulled at the cat again.

"GET OFF YOU STUPID...!" Pull.

Sam was barely breathing.

"COME ON!" Pull.

Sam wasn't breathing.

"NOW!" Push.

An image of Ben's crushed chest as it had been in the pictures Sam had stolen flashed across his vision.

Connection made.

_Not getting Sammy. He's mine you can't take him._

"That's it." Dean grabbed his gun from the table, taking aim at the cat. _Sorry, Sammy. But being covered in cat guts is probably better than suffocating._

Aim. Fire.

The moment seemed frozen in time. The cat was still for a moment, then turned to look at Dean, its eyes cold and reflecting no pain.

"Holy crap."

Aim. Fire.

Aim. Fire.

It was with pure desperation that Dean fired over and over, completely emptying his handgun into the stupid invincible cat that was killing his brother.

With an almost arrogant flick of its tail, thecat stood and leapt off Sam's chest. It dissolved into smoke and drifted towards the door, uncaring of Dean's wide-eyed gaze.

Dean dismissed the...whatever-it-was, rushing to his baby brother's side. _Oh gosh. He's not breathing. _

"Sam! Dang it, kiddo, don't you make me kiss you, man! You know I'll do it! Breathe!"

No response.

Dean was leaning over his baby brother a moment later, checking to make sure Sam's ribs weren't broken from the incredible weight they had bourne, then beginning the necessary steps of rescue breathing once he knew they weren't.

"Sam!" _ Breath._

"Breathe!" _Breath. _

"Darn you, breathe!" _Breath._

"Sammy, please!"

With a sudden gasp, Sam arched up from the bed, choking and coughing. His reaching hands quickly found Dean's shirt.

"Dean..." he gasped the second he could. "W-what...w-what happened?"

Dean quickly grabbed his brother around the shoulders, easing himself down to sit on the bed behind Sam so he could help his aching brother sit up to ease his breathing.

"A cat was sitting on your chest, getting heavier and heavier until you couldn't breathe."

Silence.

"_What?"_

Dean snorted. "Yeah, that was kinda what I was thinking. It was a cat, dude, I'm serious. I emptied a clip into it when I couldn't lift it and it just looked at me like I was throwing pebbles at it then stood up, turned to _smoke_ and left the room."

Sam was quiet again, then finally, "Well that's weird."

"That's the understatement of the year."

"Perhaps we should call Bobby."

"Uh, yeah."

...

"I'm serious, Bobby. That's what happened."

"What have ya idjits gotten yourselves into _now?_" Bobby grumbled from the other end of the line. Dean could hear the sound of papers being moved, looked through, then Bobby made a "ah-ha" sound.

"Okay. Well, I translated the symbols Sam sent to me. It's an old Norse ritual. _Really _old. It has to do with a legend about a Draugr."

"A _what?_"

"Draugr. From what you've said about it so far, that's probably what you're dealing with. Haven't heard of one of them in years. It's a shapeshifter, has power over the weather, can change its weight and height, and is said to haunt it's own grave after death. Usually rich men who don't want to give up their money or poor men with a grudge. They have powers over dreams too. Probably why Sam didn't wake up when it first touched him. I haven't finished the research yet, but I do know it's weak against iron."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Be careful, both of ya."

"Always, Bobby.

"Yeah, whatever."

Dean hung up the phone. He turned to look at Sam, who was lying down on the bed, still trying to regain his breath back, rubbing his aching chest.

"Well, I know what it is."

"Draugr."

"Oh, that makes sense. I hadn't thought of that. I haven't read anything about that in years."

"I think it's weird that you know right off the top of your head what that is."

Sam paused, then sighed. "Yeah, it is."

Dean grinned at that, but it faded as he realized they still had a major problem.

Sam glanced at him. "How do you kill it? Did Bobby know?"

"He's still doing research. All he knows for sure is that its weakness is iron."

"That's a start. How do we find it?"

Dean grimaced. "I have a feeling it's going to be finding us. It clearly has a grudge against you. You just had to touch the grave. It just looked so friendly and inviting with its nasty stench of death that you just had to touch it. You...you...grave-toucher you."

Sam snorted. "Grave-toucher? I hate to break it to you, but that _is_ our job. You're a grave-toucher too, jerk."

"But I don't touch _cursed_ graves."

"I didn't know it was cursed. For that matter, I don't _remember_ touching it."

"Well, your memory is clearly going, old man."

"You're older than am I, Dean."

"...crap."

...

Dean was impatient. It was a trait he acknowledged and used Sam as a balance to. His little brother wasn't doing so well being a balance at the moment.

"Come on, Dean. I don't want to sit around in this motel room and _wait_ for it to attack me. Let's just go to the cemetery. I'll stand by the grave, get its attention, and you can be the awesome hero that chops the monster's head off, okay?"

_Flattery, huh? It won't help...today, anyway._

"Sammy, I'm not serving you up on a golden platter to that thing. It's killed _a lot _of people in an extremely _messy_ fashion. I'd rather not add you to the list! This is an environment we can control."

"We can control the environment in the graveyard too."

"Unexpected people, Sam. Heck, maybe even other ghosts."

"Maids. Neighbors."

"We'll put up the do not disturb sign."

"Noise?"

"We're watching a movie."

"The tiny speakers on this cheap tv will _not_ handle the amount of noise we'll be making. People can tell the difference between a fake gun shot and a real one. And the noise the Draugr will be making? Not explainable by a movie."

"People don't want to believe in monsters, so they won't. They'll take any excuse we feed them."

"Or they'll think we're crazy."

"We are crazy."

"But we're not making up the Draugr."

"Not happening, Sam."

Sam sighed, then paused, looking back up at his brother.

_Don't look. He's cheating, don't look. Dang it. I looked._

Sam's puppy dog eyes were on full force. "Dean. I can't wait here for it to come after me. Let's bring the fight to it."

_Still say those stupid things should be illegal._

...

_How do I always let this brat talk me into these things? His plans suck. _This one was no exception. _How can I protect you when you are trying so hard to grow up and be brave? I miss the short kid who would cling and let me be the shield. Then again, I'd miss the strong partner I've gained too, if I had the old him. Crap. Just can't win, can I? What was that about grass and __sides? Or was it beggars and horses? Ah, forget it._

Dean was kneeling behind a tree nearby, watching his little brother unerringly. Sam was doing his best to get the ghost's attention. He had tried standing there, but when nothing had happened, he'd touched the headstone. When _that_ had done nothing, he'd taken to actually sitting on the headstone. _That oughta tick the Draugr off. _Dean sighed. Pushing away all thoughts except for those of the hunt, Dean forced himself to focus. His hand held tightly to the gun that was now filled with iron bullets. He had an iron machete sitting tucked through his belt as well, something they'd had made specially just in case of situations like this, though he hoped that _neither _of them would get close enough to use it. He'd seen pictures of the thing in its real form. It was a nasty one.

Sam's sharp whistle caught his attention and Dean saw wispy smoke rising out of the grave. Sam was backing slowly away already, his hand hovering close to his gun, still stashed in the back of his jeans.

Within seconds, the smoke began to take solid form, swirling around in a formless mass, growing taller and taller, before they were able to make out a basic shape. When it finished, they were both struck speechless.

_Holy crap._

It's face was skeletal and pale, a long arm was outstretched towards Sam, hideously long claws extending from its fingers. It's chest was bare, defined by strong muscles. It's pure white eyes stared right through Sam as if looking straight at his soul, no emotions visible in their demonic depths. Cold veins were visible in it's large arms, pale from the lack of flowing blood. A caved in nose, lipless mouth stretched in a tight grimace completed it's haunting look.

Sam was backing up more rapidly now, hand reaching for his gun. Before he could grab ahold of it, the Draugr's arm extended in a flash and smashed into Sam, knocking him to the side, long claws raking his shoulder and chest. Sam hit the ground with a cry, already trying to scramble backwards away from the rapidly approaching beast.

Dean fired rapidly, twice, aimed for the Draugr's chest. It let out a chilling cry of surprise and pain, one that sent shivers down both Winchester's spines. It turned to Dean, looking furious, enraged by the unfamiliar pain. He fired twice more, causing it to stagger back, though not stopping its course forward towards the new threat. It's arm flashed out, throwing Dean back several feet, slamming him to the ground with a sharp groan. Unnoticed, his phone hit the ground.

Dean was startled by the sound of Sam's gun going off.

He hadn't been able to rise from the ground, but wasn't going to let his brother be attacked by the creature. It advanced towards its original prey, not stopping even when Dean fired at it again.

Dean was desperate. It was virtually on top of Sam and the iron didn't seem to be hurting it as much as irritating it.

He wasn't sure how he managed to hear his phone over the cries of the creature and Sam's shouts and fired shots.

He only glanced at it out of habit, but when he saw Bobby's name on the Caller ID, hope sprang up. He picked it up. "How do I kill it, Bobby?"

A roar of fury from the creature and a cry from Sam sent panic shooting through him.

"Now!"

Bobby's voice was concerned and urgent when he answered. "Decapitate it, burn it, and scatter the ashes."

Not bothering to answer, Dean shut the phone and scrambled to his feet. He pulled the machete out from his belt.

The scene he walked in to was literally one from a nightmare.

The creature was bent low over Sam, a long tongue slurping at blood pouring from the wounds across his shoulder and chest. Sam's body was frighteningly limp. No sign of life.

"Hey!" Dean's gruff voice was sharp and angry, channeling his horror and rage into a dangerous whirlwind of power and skill that made him a dangerous adversary to _any_ supernatural creature.

Especially one that was feeding off of his brother.

The creature turned at the shout, looking at him disinterestedly. It was about to turn back to his baby brother, but a series of iron bullets laid into its back seemed to change its mind.

It whirled around, came charging at Dean.

The hunter was ready.

Dean ducked beneath its slashing claws, then stabbed upwards with the machete, stabbing it deep in the chest. Pulling it out with a roar of anger, he swung it around.

The Draugr froze, its head hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. Its body followed a second later, hitting to the ground with a loud resounding crash.

Dean dropped the machete next to his discarded gun and ran over to his limp brother, dropping to his knees beside him.

"Sam. Hey, hey, Sam. Come on, Sammy. Wake up, man." He quickly examined the wounds. "Come on, kiddo. They aren't that bad. It's not bad. You'll be okay. I'll have you patched up in a second. Just wake up for me, okay?"

Receiving no response from his limp brother, Dean managed to gather Sam as best he could in his arms and carried him, panting and sweating, to the waiting Impala. He laid the kid down in the backseat. "Just wait here, Sam. I hate to leave you, kiddo, but you know I have to burn that thing."

It took only a few minute for Dean to cover the dead Draugr in lighter fluid and set it aflame. As much as he hated to make his bleeding brother wait, he knew Sam would never forgive him if he didn't finish the job. He waited till it finished burning, then gathered as much of the ashes it could in a special container they'd brought. They'd scatter the ashes later.

Dean ran back to his brother, slamming the door of the Impala and flooring it, one arm reaching into the backseat to hold Sam on it. If he periodically checked Sam's pulse, well...to heck with manly pride. He was a brother first.

...

Sam was now stretched out on his bed in their motel room, the bleeding stopped, the wounds stitched.

Dean paced agitatedly.

Sam wouldn't wake.

It had been hours now and his brother should just freaking _wake up_!

The panic was wearing the older brother thin, leaving him feeling ragged and worn, exhausted, and worried. He wasn't sure how much longer he could handle it.

Dean finally settled on the bed beside his still brother. "This is payback for not telling you about my dream earlier, isn't it?" Dean sighed. "Fine, brat. I'll tell you, but you have to wake up, okay?"

Dean sighed again, more deeply. "There was so much screaming." he began softly. His voice was barely audible even in the nearly silent motel room, barely more than a soft whisper. "I was trying to find the screamer, trying to figure out what was going on. Then...then I realized that you were the one screaming. I was...I was frantic, trying to find you, trying to just _stop _the _awful_ screaming. But I couldn't get to you. Every scream seemed to tear at me, like I was losing a piece of myself with every second you were screaming, suffering. I kept seeing you, over and over...having visions, being tortured, suffering...dying. Over and over and over till I thought I was going to lose it. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't...I couldn't help you."

Dean was quiet for a moment, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. _No. No. I'm already telling him...sorta...about this darn nightmare. I'm not going to cry too. _Dean took a shaky breath.

"Please, Sammy. Don't make me go through that in real life. I...I can't lose you. Please. _Please _ don't make that a reality. _Please._" Dean bowed his head, unaware that at some point during his story he had grabbed ahold of his baby brother's hand. He squeezed it tightly now, a physical manifestation of his verbal plea.

The hand tightened in response.

Dean looked up in surprise.

Sam's eyes were open, looking at him, tears gathering in his eyes. He let them fall. "I'm right here, Dean. I'm in a heck of a lot of pain, but I'm alive. And guess what big brother?"

Dean just shook his head, unable to speak.

Sam's voice was soft, just as gentle as his wide eyes. "You did save me. You have never let me down. You have never let me die. You are the best big brother I could ever ask for. More than I could ask for. You _saved me_, Dean. You took the Draugr on and you saved me. You took the YED on and you saved me. You've been there for all my visions. You even stood up to dad for me. You have always had my back, big brother. I'm not going anywhere. You won't let me."

The motel room was silent for a second.

"Now, I want food. Give me food." Sam pushed playfully at Dean's shoulder.

"You're a needy #$%& aren't you?" Dean took the opening Sam gave him with a grateful smile.

"I'm injured. I have every right to. Get me food." Sam suddenly yawned deeply. He looked up sheepishly at Dean. "Maybe I'll just skip the food and go straight to sleep."

Dean was quiet a moment, then smiled down at his baby brother with that special smile reserved just for him. "Tell you what. Tomorrow, I'll get you a _huge_ salad _and_ I'll let you pick the music while we drive."

Sam stared up, wide-eyed, at his big brother. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Sam flashed him a full-blown dimpled smile. "Sounds nice."

"You're lucky I'm such a great big brother."

Sam was serious when he answered. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

...

Dean stood at the edge of the cliff, the container of the Draugr's ashes clutched in his hands. He opened it, pouring the ashes down into the water far below. "Rest in peace, you #%#%#$#$." he snarled.

He turned back to the car, in the parking lot nearby. Sam was sitting in the front seat, watching him steadily. Dean had refused to let him get out of the car, worried about Sam expending himself too much while still recovering from the serious wounds. They were probably going to drive easily for a few days, let Sam heal up, before taking their next hunt. _Well. On to the next hunt, then._


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the next chapter all! I hope you enjoy reading! Please review! I promise to update on my other story soon. I'm trying to get this one done first because I have realized that writing the two (sorta) different Sam and Dean's are confusing and it's messing up my characterization... Is that sad? :)

* * *

_"I want to know of the one who destroyed my power. The one who destroyed my priceless book."_

_**"What is your purpose?"**_

_"Revenge."_

_**A pause. "What do you wish to know?"**_

_"His name. His location. His weaknesses. I want to know how to destroy him." The witch listened to the dark forces that had answered her call, learned of the one who had come rampaging into her home and destroyed her precious artifacts and books. Her spell making things. Priceless. Unforgiveable. _

_A wicked grin spread across her face. Her target's weaknesses were perfect considering her power, her...specialty. Though he was not to be underestimated, a plan was already forming in her mind. How to bring her enemy crashing down to his knees. By the time she was done with him, he would be begging for her forgiveness, begging for mercy. Begging for death. And his brother would be rueing the day they had left her alive, left her with the opportunity to bring chaos and pain raining down on their heads._

_"What is his name?"_

_**"The name of the one you seek is Sam Winchester."**_

...

"Hey, Sam! Come on, man! We don't have all day."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Cowardess acknowledged, 3PO, now move it."

"You ever going to quote something other than Star Wars? And you call me the geek."

"Stalling isn't going to help, Sam. Just come on."

"I really, really have a bad feeling about this."

"I know. I don't care. Let's go."

Sam sighed, deeply. Considering his...special abilities and very...interesting childhood, he had never been much into dating. He didn't like to be gone from family, friends, _safety_, _home_ for long periods of time. He never knew when a vision was going to hit, he never knew when he might be targeted. Plus, though he would never tell Dean...girls scared the heck out of him. Give him a ghost, vampire, werewolf, witch, even demon, any day. He knew how to handle those. Girls were...hard. He did his best, but...they were complicated. Besides, girls were _Dean's_ department. They were into _him_, not into his geeky kid brother.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Dean grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the bar.

"You need to relax every once in a while, Sam. Even if I have to _force_ you to relax."

"I _do _relax."

"Researching and reading don't count."

"Says who?"

"Says your awesome older brother who knows everything."

"Whatever."

...

Sam sat at the bar, vaguely watching Dean play pool (for fun, rather than for money making) with a couple of girls. They weren't really playing so much as watching Dean show off.

Sam sighed again. _This sucks._

Just as Sam was about to sneak out to the car to catch up on some sleep (not like Dean would notice he was gone...he was a little preoccupied), he felt a cold _chill_ make its way up his spine, causing him to sit up in his chair, glancing around with barely restrained panic.

A fear, unlike one he had ever known, exploded through his system. Something...something was _here_. Something dark, something powerful. And it was here for _him._ Sam looked over at Dean, but Dean didn't look alarmed. He hadn't noticed. _Oh gosh. That means..._

Before he really knew what he was doing, Sam was moving towards Dean. He grabbed Dean's sleeve.

He could almost _hear_ the teasing remark on the tip of Dean's tongue, but one look at Sam's face froze it in place.

"_Dean..."_ the panic laced word instantly had Dean's attention, the hunter and big brother both coming to full attention.

"Sam." It was a question and a reassurance in one.

"We need to leave now. Right now. There's something here. Powerful. It's here for _me, _Dean. I can feel it. It's...it's really powerful. It's like this _grating_ feeling in my mind, a dark shadow...I've never felt anything like it. I'm...I'm really freaked, Dean." Sam almost couldn't believe he had admitted that out loud. However, under the circumstances, he didn't really care.

This thing meant business, whatever it was.

Dean nodded, already wrapping a hand tightly around Sam's arm. "We're gone, then." His free hand hovered near his gun, never wavering.

That's when the lights shut off.

"Sam!" Dean felt a horrible _cold_ wash over him, penetrating beyond physical and into mental. It touched his very soul, despair and horror and overwhelming fear.

"_Dean!_" Despite their close promixity, Sam's voice was faint, weak, soft, barely audible. His baby brother sounded far away, like they were yards apart instead of inches. His terror, pain, was clear in his tone. He was calling for help, calling because he was afraid.

The knowledge set Dean's already racing heart on fire. He didn't know what to do. _It's like the nightmare come true. _

Sam's firm form beside him _wavered_ like he wasn't even corporeal, then...nothing.

The sudden disappearance of his brother from his grip was like a physical ache. It was another painful reminder of his dream, like a piece of him was missing because Sam was in danger, Sam was hurting, Sam was... _No! No. Not happening. I won't __**let**__it happen._

The lights came on just as quickly as they turned off, but there was one very important difference.

Sam had disappeared into thin air.

He was gone.

...

Sam couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't even think. A deep cold burrowed down into his bones. If he could move, he'd be shaking.

_Dean? _

_Dean! _

_Please answer me!_

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't speak. His voice simply couldn't penetrate the darkness, the emptiness, around him.

_Dean. _

_Dean please help me._

...

Dean paced back and forth in the parking lot, hand clenching his phone tightly. It rang and rang. No answer.

"#$% it, Dad! Answer me #%$^#$#$! Sam's disappeared. This is really big and I #%#$# need you here. Why don't you answer your #$^$#$# phone?" Dean hung up and barely resisted the urge to simply crush the phone in his hand right then.

_Fine. Fine. You won't answer? Who needs you._

Dean dialed his phone, a different number this time, and put it back up to his ear.

It rang once, before it was picked up.

"Dean?"

Dean almost started crying in relief. Almost.

"Bobby. Sam's disappeared. I need your help."

...

When Sam came back to awareness, the first thing he registered was the cold. It was still freezing, still horribly cold. His very blood was frozen. The next thing he noticed was his bonds. His ankles were bound together with rope painfully tight, his wrists tied to some sort of post that he was also leaning against.

"Well. It seems the mighty hunter has finally awoken."

Sam's head snapped to the side, looking around for the unseen speaker.

A woman stood at the bottom of a set of creaky, crumbling stairs, watching him with undisguised hatred.

It took him a second, but he placed her: a witch he and Dean had caught practicing some really bad stuff, doing some pretty gruesome things to a lot of people a month or two back. As was their policy, they destroyed her things that pertained to magic and gave her a severe warning that if they caught her again, they would kill her. Sam had wondered if leaving this particular witch alive was the right call, but he wasn't going to be the one to cross that line. He wasn't going to become like the things he hunted.

Apparently, this particular witch was determined to die. _Dean is going to be so ticked._

"Ah, ah, don't give me that look. You brought this upon yourself. Speaking of which, did you enjoy your...interactions with my lovely pet?" she gestured to the corner and Sam turned, stiffening immediately at the sight that greeted him.

A dark shimmering cloud surrounded a shadowy being that stood there, watching him intently. Its whole body _thrummed_ with energy, like it was dying to just attack him, but either would not or could not. _Probably the latter. _It's eyes glowed red, the only clear part of his body visible amidst the enshrouding cloud.

"Not really." he finally answered, forcing himself to look back over at the witch, who was smirking at him.

"A terrifying sight isn't it?"

Sam had only heard rumors of creatures like this. With this much...power. All he _needed_ to know was that it was dangerous and nothing to _ever_ be messed with. Trying to control it was like trying to stop the Titanic from sinking by tying a string to a lifeboat and rowing away.

"Do you truly understand what you've _done?_ That thing is nothing to be messed with. Trying to control it...it's suicide! If it breaks free, and it will eventually, you will be the first person it kills. Do you really want to die that badly?"

The witch cocked an eyebrow. "I find your concern amusing hunter, but I don't really care for your opinion. It will not break free of me."

"You're underestimating its strength and power."

"And you are underestimating me."

Sam sighed. There would be no negotiating with her and he knew it.

The witch breathed heavily, clearly infuriated at his arguing with her. She strode forward, grabbing his chin roughly, forcing him to look up at her. "You think I am so weak? Perhaps you should get a taste of what this creature can do. Perhaps I should show you how you are going to die." She stepped backwards, towards the stairs, then snapped her fingers.

Immediately, the creature rushed forward. It was upon Sam before Sam could react or even flinch away.

Agony burst through Sam, his whole body seizing as the creature pressed it's hand against his chest. He couldn't even find enough air to scream. There was a horrible _pulling_ at something deep inside him, whether in his mind or body, he couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. All he knew was the incredible pain that exploded through his entire body, cutting off his senses, leaving him completely unaware of everything but the pain.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun.

The creature was back in its corner, visibly trembling with the effort at holding itself back according to its master's order.

The witch knelt beside Sam, looking him deep in the eyes. His chest heaved and he could find no air to speak to her. He couldn't barely concentrate enough to register what she said to him.

"Welcome to hell, Sam Winchester. This will be slow and it will be painful. You will be _begging_ me to kill you by the end. You will be broken and there will be too many pieces for your idiot brother to put back together again. Maybe I'll leave you alive. Maybe I'll leave you here, a shell of a man, for your brother to find. Maybe he'll put a gun to your head just to put you out of your misery. That would be far more merciful than what I am going to do to you."

With that, she stood, leaving Sam alone in the dim room with no company but his own harsh breathing and the dark creature that would destroy him.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for reading everyone! Please review and thank you for all your kind reviews thus far! Please enjoy!

* * *

Dean sighed heavily, running a hand over his face, trying to hold himself together. He had been waiting for Bobby to call him with some news, some information, some _anything_ for hours now. Sam had been missing a full day and they had nothing. He had tried to do some of his own research, but every time he sat down at the computer all he could think of was the hundreds, thousands, of horrible things that could be happening to his baby brother at that very moment. It was distracting, it was horrifying and it was getting to be too much.

The phone rang.

"Bobby, please tell me you have something for me."

Bobby's sigh was not encouraging. "Yeah, but you won't like it."

"Just tell me."

"The only creatures that fit your description are extremely powerful. They feed off of the life force of...of psychics."

Dean swore violently. He had been afraid of something like that.

"There aren't many witches that could control something like that and it wouldn't have behaved the way it did if it _wasn't_ being controlled. You mess with any really, really powerful witches recently? Maybe one with a specific grudge against Sam?"

Dean thought for a moment, trying to think about all the hunts they had done together recently. He was beginning to get frustrated with the _nothing_ that came up when it hit him. "Yeah. Yeah, I know who it is. She's definitely powerful enough to do something like this and she was cursing up a storm against Sam. Sam was the one who set all of her stuff on fire, he kinda took charge of that hunt."

Bobby cursed. "Sounds like her, then. Do you need backup?"

Dean hesitated, then made a decision. "No. I'll call you if I need something."

"Alright, just be careful and get your idjit brother back." Bobby's gruff tone did little to hide his concern.

Dean hung up, already moving to pack up his stuff. The witch didn't live far from where he was right now and he didn't want to leave Sam in the hands of that witch for any longer than he had to.

...

Sam wasn't sure how much more he could take. Every inch of his body ached, burned. He could barely move, barely see, barely hear. It was as if the whole world was muffled, shrunk down so all he was aware of, all he could feel, was the pain.

And there seemed to be no end of that. The witch came every three hours and let the creature feed. This had been going on for what felt like an eternity and Sam wasn't sure how much he had left to give. The only thing that kept him from cracking, from just begging the witch to end him, was the thought that Dean would kill him if he gave up.

Sam was a Winchester. Winchester's didn't give up. And he proudly claimed the title "Most Stubborn of Them All".

He wasn't going to let his life end like this. He had gone up against some of the most powerful forces known in heaven, earth, or hell. The Yellow-Eyed Demon being one of the most powerful, unless you counted the thousands of demons that he had personally held back while his family closed the doors to hell.

He wasn't going to die like this.

He refused.

...

Dean was close. Every fiber of his being seemed to pull him forward, towards Sam. He _knew_ Sam was here. He knew the witch was here. And he knew that the _thing_ that took Sam was here too. He could feel its cold, that same fear and despair that had started to well up in his chest right before Sam was taken.

_Time for round two, you #$%##$#%#$^#. Let's see who wins this one._

_..._

Sam was released from the creature's grasp with a horrible wrenching gasp of pain. A weak sob fell from his blue lips.

He was so cold.

He was in so much pain.

He just wanted his brother.

He had never wanted to see his brother more than he did right then. He was long past feeling embarrassed by how much he needed and wanted Dean. He didn't care how old he was, how many years had passed, he just wanted Dean to hold him, protect him, tell him everything was okay, _make_ everything okay.

'Cause Sam was pretty sure it wasn't okay.

He was pretty sure that he was dying.

The witch's sudden laugh grated through his aching head and he winced. "Sammy, Sammy. Your brother would be ashamed of you. Actually shedding tears? My, my, how childish of you."

Sam managed to glare up at her and spit out a phrase that would have made his brother very proud.

It also really ticked the witch off.

"Don't forget I have the power to destroy you, Sam Winchester. A simple snap of my fingers and my creature will be feeding on you. It's just _dying_ to finish you off, Sam. You are one of the best tasting meals it has had in a long time. Maybe the best."

"Lucky me." Sam muttered, leaning against the pole heavily, unable to hold his weight up anymore. He could barely hold his own head up anymore. He knew any time attempt to move was met with complete and utter failure. He was simply too weak.

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should just finish you off now."

"I'm going to...to warn you...one more time." Sam gasped. It was getting harder to breathe. "You kill me...my...my brother will tear you to...to pieces. You...you won't have...have a chance...against him. As it is...you probably...p-probably don't have a high...high life expectancy...ri-right n-now." Dang it was hard to be a smart-aleck when he couldn't breathe.

"Your brother hasn't shown up so far, Sammy. Maybe he's given up on you. Maybe he's _glad_ I took you. I'm sure someone like you must be high-maintenance. He's probably glad to be rid of you."

"H-he'll be here. M-my b-brother ju-just l-loves a good entrance."

"Hope I didn't miss anything important."

Both of them startled in surprise at the new voice. Sam's heart leapt at the familiar tone. _Dean._

"You okay, Sammy?"

"B-been better." Sam managed.

Dean's brow furrowed at that response, but he quickly covered up his worry, forcing himself to focus. "I'm sure."

"Dean Winchester. I can't say I'm surprised to see you. Nor can I say that it's a pleasure."

"Hey, it's okay, I'm really not that happy to see you either. I'm pretty sure I warned you not to mess with this crap anymore."

"I got a second opinion." the witch sneered.

Dean glanced over at the creature still sitting in the corner. It was staring at the witch, glaring. It's anger seemed clear. It wanted to feed. She was in its way.

"I'll make you a deal. You let me take Sam and I'll only burn your witchcraft stuff instead of burning you." Dean got down to business, Sam's weak gasps in the corner urging him along.

The witch laughed. "I have the upper hand here, Dean. I think I'll pass. I think I'm going to let you watch as my pet drains your brother. I don't think his sanity is going to last another round, Dean. For that matter, I'm not sure any of him will last another feeding. Any last words for your brother, Sam?"

Dean glanced around the room frantically. _Altar. The altar has got to be here somewhere. If I can just knock it over, but __**where is it**__?_

"Dean. I-I'll always b-be right be-behind y-you, man. B-behind y-you."

Dean stared at Sam a moment. _Please don't give up, Sammy. It's not too late. It __**can't be**__ too late. _Then Dean paused. Sam's expression didn't mirror the words. He was too...focused. There was no "I give up" written on his features.

_Behind me._ _The altar's behind me. _

The knowledge hit Dean like a ton of bricks. Sam was telling him to look behind him.

_You're brilliant, Sammy! Pure brilliant._

"Oh, how sweet. But I'm afraid you won't have his back much longer, Sam." the witch raised a hand, her fingers curling to snap her order at the creature.

That's when Dean turned and ran. He ran straight for the altar, ignoring the witch's screech behind him, Sam's soft urgings, the creature's cold essence that seemed to pull at him, try to slow him down. His focus was solely on the altar that he _had_ to knock over.

He skidded to a halt beside it, grabbing the long table with both hands and heaving it onto its side, tossing all of the ingredients, books, and candles onto the floor.

The effect was immediate.

The creature hissed long and sharp, a sound that sent shivers down both Winchesters backs. The witch screamed.

Dean ran to Sam's side, dropping to his knees beside him.

Both of them worked hard to ignore the sound of the witch screaming, the creature feeding, in the were running out of time. They had to get out of here and figure out how to kill the creature.

Sam looked up weakly at his brother and said the first, no, second thing that came to mind. He wasn't quite ready to spill his guts about how _glad_ he was to see Dean.

"Wh-what took y-you so long?"

Dean glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, not stopping his work on the knots that bound Sam's wrists together on the other side of the pole. "Hey, being late's fashionable."

Sam's incredulousness was clear. "Since w-when ha-have you b-been f-fashionable?"

Dean adorned a look of mock-offense. "I have an image to uphold."

Sam snorted. "E-exactly. Don't b-be late."

Dean's smile softened slightly. "I missed you too, #$%^."

"Jerk."

Sam's eyes suddenly widened, Dean's head snapping up at the sound of his gasp.

The creature had finished with the witch frighteningly quick. It had lowered it's dark glare at Sam.

Sam couldn't look away.

A strange choking sound was pulled from his throat, a sound that made Dean's flesh crawl, his mind erupt with worry and fear.

"Sammy?"

Sam didn't respond.

"SAM!" he finally grabbed Sam, shaking him hard, but there was no effect. It didn't help.

Dean released his brother, looking around for something, _anything_ that may be effective against this creature.

That's when the creature's glare seemed to lessen.

That's when Sam let out a horrible scream that echoed through the room with chilling force.

Sam's head was jerked back, his throat exposed and strained, his pale skin going ghost white as the choked scream ripped from him.

Dean turned back to Sam, quickly lunging for his ropes again. His efforts to get them undone were hampered by his panic.

The next sound Sam made would be burned into Dean's memory forever.

It was the most tortured sound he had ever heard from anything, much less his beloved baby brother, the person who meant the world to him.

It was a sound of soul-deep anguish. A sound that spoke of indescribable torment, a horrible keening noise that tore at Dean, doing more damage than a physical weapon ever could, damage that couldn't vanish with just a few days of rest and relaxation and some good drugs.

He would have sold his soul to make it stop.

A bright light suddenly filled the room, following Sam deep into the dark void in which he fell.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi all! Here's the next chapter! I think there's going to be at least one more. Maybe two. It depends on where my muse takes me... :) I hope you're all enjoying this so far! Please keep reviewing! I promise to respond to all the reviews soon! College, ya know... :)

I'm not sure I completely love this chapter, but...oh well. I'm posting it anyway. I've messed with it for days and haven't quite gotten perfection, so I decided to quit being OCD about it and just post it. :) Hope you like it!

* * *

Dean's voice was the first thing to greet Sam when he woke. He was confused at first, because he was pretty sure Dean had never used _that_ tone of voice with him. Dean never took a truly angry tone with Sam, but he sure did sound angry now. That's when he realized that there was someone else in the room, wherever that was, besides him and Dean.

"What do you mean, you don't know what's wrong with him? Look, I really appreciate you flying in and saving our butts _again_ at the last moment, but he's been sick for five days, on his death bed for three! You darn well better be able to _tell me something helpful!" _

"I am being blocked from Sam's mind. I cannot see what is happening and I cannot help." Castiel, ever patient, didn't really sound all that phased by Dean's anger.

"What did that freak _do _to him?" Dean's rage-filled tone did a good job at hiding all other emotion, but Sam had known his brother a long time and even without looking he could sense the despair that permeated Dean's entire being.

"You are frightened for him." Castiel's blunt, clear statement seemed to stop Dean in his tracks.

"I..." Dean's voice suddenly softened, fear clearer in his tone than Sam has ever heard it. "I've never heard Sam make a sound like that. I've never...I mean, yeah, his visions hurt and he's been hurt before, even tortured, but this...this was different. I've never..."

Then, clear as day, Sam heard Dean's voice echo through his mind, _I've never been so afraid. Ever. I couldn't help him, I didn't know what to do. I could have lost him. Gosh, I could have lost him!_

Sam's sore, aching, weak body stiffened slightly. _Holy crap._

Sam pried his eyes open, a weak, hoarse, "Dean..." the first word he could manage.

Dean was by his side a second later, Castiel forgotten in the flood of relief that swamped his older brother. "Hey, kiddo. You finally with me?"

Sam nodded minutely, then hesitated. "Dean...something's...different." he croaked.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "What is?"

_Crap what now?_ Echoed through Sam's head. It was incredibly disconcerting.

"I...I can hear what you're thinking."

Castiel looked up sharply at that.

Dean raised an eyebrow, unable to effectively hide his shock. "What am I thinking right now then?"

_Sam's a freaking girl who can't keep his mind to himself._

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not a girl, Dean, and it's not exactly my fault."

Dean went ghost white in an instant.

Castiel "hmm"ed softly, then disappeared.

...

_Crap. Crap. Crap. CRAP! _Dean was freaking out. He couldn't help it. He'd accepted a lot over the years, but this was just...a lot. _CRAP! _

Dean tried harder to keep his thoughts under his control, worried that he would share something with Sam inadvertently that he would rather his baby brother didn't know. Heaven knew there were a couple of pranks and things he had done as a kid that he didn't want Sam to know about. Not to mention...well, there were some things an older brother just could never share with his younger sibling and keep his pride intact.

_Minding reading. Crap._

Dean glanced down at his baby brother. His own panic was swept aside as he realized that Sam was practically hyperventilating, was having a literal panic attack right there.

"Hey. Hey, kiddo, deep breath. You're okay. It's okay. We'll figure it out. We'll figure it out." He rubbed Sam's chest gently, keeping a hand on his shoulder. He was very careful to keep his thoughts following his words. He didn't want any of his own panic bleeding over into Sam's mind.

Sam's breathing gradually calmed, though he still looked sick as a dog. The last couple of days had been killer on both of them and Dean wasn't sure either of them were handling this news very well. _Heck, it's been a long couple of weeks. What with the ghost, the Draugr, then the witch and her "pet" and now minding reading... Ugh._

"You're okay, Sam. You're okay. We'll figure this out. We'll figure it out."

...

Dean had never been so grateful to see Castiel in his life.

"I have learned a little about the creature you met." Castiel's gaze swept over the two brothers, concern almost hidden in his gaze. The two looked wiped and it was rather obvious. He couldn't keep this information to himself, though. There was no choice. He just hoped they were strong enough to deal with the consequences.

"It is not fully understood how this creature operates, but essentially what it has done is create an open wound in Sam's mind. It...opened him to outside supernatural forces, influences, and it has led to an expansion of his powers that was not orginally meant by heaven. Sam is not evil, just...more than planned." Castiel knew how much the knowledge of his purity meant to Sam and he wanted to be sure that Sam didn't doubt that for an instant.

"I am not entirely sure how, but there _is_ a way for Sam to control his new ability, just as with his other powers. He can block the thoughts out."

Both Winchester boys were relieved at that news. Neither of them really wanted this to be an "open book" kind of power. That would get bad quickly.

A thought crossed Sam's mind and he turned to Castiel, who watched him expectantly.

"Hey, uh, Cas? Thanks for...you know, coming in and...uh, saving us..._again_."

Cas cocked his head, staring at him in a thoughtful way for a moment, then nodded firmly. "It was my pleasure, Sam. As always."

He disappeared with a tiny flutter of wings.

...

Sam found it was relatively easy to control the new mind reading once he had recovered a little of his strength. It was simply a matter of _deciding_ not to hear anymore and it was all gone. He wished _everything_ was so easy.

Dean was on edge about it. Sam didn't _need_ to use mind-reading to see that. After everything, this seemed like it might be too much for his older brother.

Sam was frightened.

He just didn't know who to turn to now.

...

The call from their dad was unexpected. They hadn't heard from him in a while and he rarely called them without some sort of major emergency. If even then.

As always, he didn't tell them much.

"Meet me tonight in Jackson."

That was it.

_Brief as always, but it will be great to see him again. _Dean couldn't help but be excited.

Unfortunately, Sam didn't seem to share the feeling.

Dean sighed as he glanced over at his baby brother, who hadn't said a word since their dad had called. "Why the pout, Sammy?" He teased.

Sam glanced at him, then looked back out the window, only shrugging.

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sam never stopped worrying about things. _The emo kid needs to learn to chill every once in a while._

"I'm sure dad's fine, Sam. You know how he is." Dean took a shot in the dark at what could be bothering Sam.

Sam snorted. "I'm sure he's fine."

Dean frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam just shook his head. "Nothing, Dean."

"Don't 'nothing' me, Sam, you said it, now explain it."

"Hey, I didn't start this conversation, Dean, you did."

"I don't _care_ who started it, _what is your problem_?" Dean wasn't sure why he felt so mad at Sam. Sam's attitude regarding their dad had begun rubbing him the wrong way a while back and he was having trouble relaxing the insistent urge to defend his father.

Some distant part of his mind reminded him that this wasn't fair reaction. He wasn't happy about the mind-reading. Totally freaked, actually, would be more accurate. But, well, it was easier to be angry than to scream bloody murder and curl up in a ball under the bed.

So, in true Winchester fashion, if he couldn't stop it, he just pushed down on the throttle.

"Is this about your stupid grudge? That was years ago, Sam. You need to give dad a chance. Crap, it was a lot to take in at first, Sam, you have to give the man a break."

Sam's eyes flashed with anger. "He _hit me_, Dean. And just because he stopped complaining and giving me a hard time doesn't mean that he changed his opinion. It just means he chose his battles. He knew you weren't going to take much more, so he stopped talking about it. His opinion didn't change."

"How could you possibly know that? Unless you've been reading minds longer than you _said _you have been."

That accusation hurt. Sam didn't hide things like that from his brother. His big brother was his hero and had been for as long as he could remember. He was always honest with Dean (with a couple of rare exceptions that Sam was determined not to repeat – _hey, no one's perfect!_). It hurt him to think that Dean might not trust him. After the fiasco with dad when his powers first showed themselves...well, he hated arguing with Dean, but he hated being made out to be the bad guy even more.

"How could I know that? _Seriously? _It was in his eyes every time he looked at me. He's uncomfortable around me. He doesn't like it when I touch him. He hesitates for a second every time he is about to pass me a weapon. He has _never_ relaxed around me. When he calls, he calls you, not me. Something changes in his eyes when he looks from you to me. It's not hard to connect all the dots, Dean. I'm not an idiot."

"You're such a drama queen, Sam! Maybe you just like to cause tension and problems, dude, because this is ridiculous. Dad has long since proven himself and I see no reason to freak out about this."

Sam's fists clenched at that, his voice rising with his emotions. "I wasn't _freaking out, _Dean! You asked me what I was thinking and I answered! Excuse me for not always _agreeing with you_!"

Dean gritted his teeth, angrily. "Grow up, Sam! It's time to get your head out of the clouds!"

"I'm not the one in denial, Dean! I don't know how you can miss how differently dad treats me from you! Maybe _you _should grow up!"

Dean beat a fist against the steering wheel. "DANG it, Sam! We're going to see what dad needs and that's that. You really don't want to go? I'll pull over and you can start walking!"

"I can't believe you're taking his side in this."

"This isn't about sides, Sam! I've always had your back about your stupid powers! I think you let it go to your head! This is about you throwing a fit because for once the attention isn't on you!"

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, then snapped it closed. He turned to look out the window. His voice was much softer when he replied. "You're wrong, Dean. It's always about sides. Who's right, who's wrong? It's always the question. Is dad right? Am I right? Do the powers make me supernatural? Do they simply make me...different? There are always sides, Dean. I know it's hard, but maybe you should remember that dad never agreed with you. He respects you enough to back off, but he has _never_ trusted me. It's in the small things, Dean. Every day little things. He doesn't trust me. Open your eyes, man."

The conversation was officially over. Sam leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, shutting out Dean and the rest of the world.

Dean gritted his teeth, torn between feeling horrible for the hurt in Sam's voice and anger at how stubborn Sam could be.

A smothered part of him was angry at himself too.

...

The silence continued throughout the day. Sam slept, or pretended to, and Dean drove, stuck with only his thoughts and his music.

Neither seemed to have much appeal at the moment.

It was with gratitude that Dean pulled into the motel their dad had directed them to. Sam sat up and squared his shoulders, his face strangely blank.

Dean hated that. It was something Sam rarely did, something he only did when he was hurting badly. He was either hurting _because_ of Dean or badly enough that he wasn't going to share it.

Some part of Dean knew it was the former and not the latter.

Guilt welled up in his chest. _I'm sorry, Sammy. I took it all out on you, didn't I? Crap. Some big brother I am. I'll fix it, Sam. I'm sorry. You've taken a lot of crap about your powers, you need someone in your corner. _Dean barely managed to restrain a viscous string of swear words from bursting out of him. _I can't believe I implied I don't trust him. I may not have said it outright, but Sam will pick up on every little detail of what I said. Crap. _

The two climbed out of the car and headed towards their father's truck, seeing him standing at the back, messing with something in the trunk. He turned as they approached, hearing their footsteps.

...

Sam knew he shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But his curiosity was so strong and his hurt was even stronger. He could...could finally know for sure if he was right or if Dean was. _There are always sides. _

Sam sighed silently and opened himself to his father's thoughts.

Their father's eyes rested on Dean and Sam could distantly feel his father's warm, surprisingly affectionate thoughts towards Dean.

_Kid looks good. Healthy._

Then John looked harder.

_Stressed._

His father's mental sigh was loud and irritated.

_Dang it. What has Sam gotten them into now? Powers, demons, angels! Now what? Kid's always getting them into trouble._

Sam's mind just _ached_ with the pain. _I knew this. _Sam reminded himself. _I knew dad felt that way. I always knew he liked Dean better than me. This __**isn't a surprise.**_

_But it still hurts. _A small rebellious part of Sam reminded him.

Then John glanced at Sam.

An image rose distantly in Sam's mind, clearly something John was picturing.

Sam barely restrained a gasp.

_Mom? _

John was remembering the death of his wife.

Sam's step faltered, shock and hurt flooding through him. _That's what he thinks when he sees me? He...he blames...he blames me. _

John's mental sigh was much softer this time, full of pain.

_Sam._

Dean glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised, inclining his head towards their dad, his message clear: _Let's go._

Sam pushed himself forward, closing his mind to any more thoughts.

_You shouldn't have looked anyway. It's your fault. Crap. It's __**all**__ your fault. It's not even a question of good or bad. Either way, mom died in my bedroom, over my crib, because of __**me**_**. **

A conversation, something Dean had told him a long time ago, flashed through Sam's head. _ "She died __**for**__ you, Sam, not __**because**__ of you. There's a difference."_

_Maybe he didn't mean it. Dean took dad's side this morning. He even implied he doesn't trust me. Maybe Dean just...just said that because Castiel was there or because he...he thought it was what I needed to hear. _

_It's not like he's never told me a lie to make me feel better before. It's practically his job. _

_How many times has he told me it'll be okay? "It'll be okay, Sammy. You'll see. You'll be okay." _

_I can't even remember how many times._

_How many times has it actually been okay or Dean actually __**thought**__ it would be okay?_

_Has he ever?_

Sam swore under his breath.

Pushing back the pain, the strong feeling of betrayal, he forced his mind to focus on whatever it was their father wanted them to help him with.

_Hunting. I can do hunting. Focus. I've been doing this since I was 8. _

_I can do this._

...

Sam was upset. He was _more_ upset than he had been before. Dean wasn't sure why.

And it was driving him crazy.

Oh, Sam was doing perfectly fine, acting normal. He read up on all the information their dad had on the three demons he was hunting and wanted back up for, made sure he was prepared, had his weapons ready.

But he was doing it quietly.

The banter was gone and super-focused Sam had suddenly appeared.

Sam was upset.

_Crap._

...

The plan was to hunt the demons in the morning. The boys got the motel room next to their father's, neither really feeling like sharing a bed.

Dean needed to have some space from their father anyway if he was going to get Sam to talk. He would have preferred to get Sam drunk to ensure Sam told him what he _wanted_ to hear, but considering they were hunting in the morning that option was obviously out.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

"Sammy?"

Sam didn't even look at him, just grunted in a questioning yet distinctly irritated manner.

Dean wasn't completely sure how it was possible to _grunt_ in a questioning yet distinctly irritated manner, but that's what Sam did. _Huh. Okay. Time to pull out the __**really**__ big guns._

"What's bothering you, kiddo?"

The flinch was tiny. It wasn't anything their dad or anyone else would have seen, but Dean had pretty much raised Sam himself and he _knew_ the kid. He was attuned to every nuance of his baby brother's actions and reactions and nothing was getting past him tonight. _Ready._

"Nothing, Dean." Sam's voice gave nothing away, but it didn't need to. Dean already knew that Sam was hurting, that Sam _was_ bothered by something.

_Aim._

"Sammy?"

_Fire._

"Please. Tell me."

Sam stiffened for a moment, then his shoulders slumped and Dean knew he had won.

"I...I don't want you to be mad at me, Dean."

Dean felt his heart drop. _Sam hasn't sounded that young in years. Crap. _"I won't be mad, Sammy."

"I listened to dad's thoughts while we were walking up." Sam said it in a rush, like he just couldn't hold it back anymore. He didn't turn to face Dean.

"Ah, Sammy..." Dean groaned. This could be bad and Dean knew it. Only heaven knew what their father had been thinking when they walked up.

"I know I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." Sam muffled a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Dean felt his heart drop even further.

"#%#, I'm _so sorry._"

"What did you hear, Sammy?" Dean kept his voice soft, not wanting to intimidate Sam into saying no more.

"He was glad to see you."

"What else, Sam."

"He...he was trying to figure out how you were doing. Decided you looked good, healthy. Then he realized you looked stressed. He...he thought..." Sam was struggling to continue.

Dean moved forward, gently sitting down on the bed beside Sam, bumping against him lightly, supportingly. "What did you hear, Sammy?"

"I believe his exact thoughts were: 'Dang it. What has Sam gotten them into now? Powers, demons, angels! Now what? Kid's always getting them into trouble.'"

Dean fought back a wince. _Dang it dad._

Sam folded in on himself, face hidden in his hands.

Dean realized that wasn't all Sam had heard and mentally cursed his dad. _You just had to prove him right, didn't you, dad?_

"He...looked over at me, then...he..." Sam sounded like he was going to fall apart, his voice cracking, his whole form trembling.

His whole body _lurched_ violently and Dean grabbed him instinctively, wrapping his arms around him to keep him on the bed. "Sammy?"

"He pictured mom's death. He blames me. He _blames me_."

Dean froze. Of all the horrible things he had pictured Sam hearing in their dad's head that had not been one of them.

Sam couldn't hide his sob this time. It was soul-wrenching and tore painfully at Dean's heart.

His argument with Sam this morning suddenly seemed ten times worse and his guilt was very nearly overwhelming.

Dean pulled Sam towards him, wrapping his arms more tightly around him. "Sammy. Crap, Sammy." He was struggling to find the right words to fix the new mess his dad had made.

"You see, Dean? Dad hasn't ever really trusted me. He _won't_ ever trust me. He pretends to for your sake and for his, for that matter, but he doesn't _really _trust me. He still thinks I'm a supernatural _freak_." Sam said the word like a curse, his voice strained with tears.

"Sam." _Please. Don't go back to that. You're not a freak, Sammy. You're not._

"Don't you dare argue with me, Dean. I have _proof_. You can't deny what I heard in the man's head."

Dean tightened his hold on Sam, bringing his defensive words to a halt. "Sammy. I know. I know. Crap, Sam. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Sam's body was tense for a moment before he finally relaxed against Dean, fisting a hand in his shirt.

It was a familiar position, one they had done many times during visions or during the many hard times they had encountered in their short lives.

As painful as this situation was, part of Dean was glad that Sam trusted him enough to still rely on him, let him do this.

Dean wasn't sure what he would be if he wasn't a big brother.

"Dad is _wrong_, Sam. You are many things, Sam, but you are _not_ a _freak_. You understand me?"

Sam's body heaved as his sobs slowed and quieted even further. "What am I then, Dean? How is dad wrong? Mom still died. It was still my fault either way."

"You're...you're my baby brother. You're a Winchester. You're...you're my best friend, my partner. You're a hunter, you're a warrior for heaven...you're...you're a hero. And I'm _proud_ to call you my brother, Sam. You hear me? I'm _proud of you_. I don't care what dad thinks. Dad is wrong. Sam, mom died _for_ you, to _protect_ you. She loved you so much that she gave her life for you. She decided. It was her choice. She could have left. She could have given up. She could have given in to the demon. She could have _given you_ to the demon. But she didn't. She stood tall and strong and she defended you. That doesn't make her death your fault, it makes her legacy come to life. _You_ are her legacy, Sam. What she made you, what she made me...that's her legacy. And all of this is possible because of what she did."

Dean squeezed his brother tightly, fighting his own emotions now.

"_I miss her, Sammy._ Crap, I miss her _every day_. But...but I'd miss you more. I'm glad she did what she did, Sam. I wish...I wish it hadn't had to happen, but it did. The demon came, he threatened you, and mom stood her ground. It _happened_, Sam. It's not your fault. It's that _#%^& _demon's fault and we killed him. We avenged her. Now we have to live for her."

It was one of the longest's speeches Dean had ever given. He meant every word.

Dean Winchester would go to _any_ lengths to comfort his sibling. Sam was _his _baby brother and _his _responsiblity and there was simply no way he would let his baby brother suffer by thinking that his mother's death was his fault or that his family blamed him for it. _No way in heck._

Sam pulled back from Dean, looking into his eyes for a moment, gauging the truth in Dean's words, even as tears streamed down his cheeks.

The hug Sam pulled him into then, nearly sent them both falling off the bed. "Thank you, Dean."

"Anytime, Sammy. Anytime."

Dean had no idea how long they sat there, hugging, but Sam finally pulled away a little, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"I think we've just had our year's worth of chick flick moments."

Grateful that Sam felt well enough to joke, Dean played along. "A _year_? I think we've filled _at least_ ten years worth."

Sam snorted. "Right."

Dean stood, ruffling Sam's hair as he passed to get to his bag. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I'm gonna hit the sack. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

_And I think I may beat the crap out of dad tomorrow after we kill the demons. _

Dean snorted.

_Oh yeah. Big day. The things I do for you kid._

Dean paused in his digging.

_No. No the chick flick moment of the century was for Sam. The beating is for me. No one messes with my little brother. No one. What a way to tell dad that Sam reads minds..._

...

Sam watched his brother dig through his bag, feeling much better now than he had before.

_I love you too, Dean. _


	6. Chapter 6

Hey all! Here's the last chapter of this story! Thanks so much for reading it and for all the wonderful reviews! I _may _write more for this series, but not immediately (if there is any kind of story or scene or something you want to see, please suggest and I will definitely consider it!). I'm going to tackle the 'After the Nightmare' story next! I was just having a hard time doing both at once since the characters are different in minute little ways. Again, thanks for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

* * *

Dean rolled his shoulders, letting out a calming breath, tossing Sam a light grin. "You ready?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're a dork."

Dean faked an offended look. "That...that is just not cool. I am _awesome_. I am so not a dork. I don't know how you managed it, but I think you got the two of us confused."

Sam shook his head, his reply cut off when John shot him a look that clearly was meant to quiet him. The youngest Winchester ducked his head for just a moment, but he felt Dean nudge him, giving him a reassuring glance, shooting him a small smile, and Sam couldn't help but return it.

It felt good to have Dean on his side again.

...

The three Winchesters moved silently forward, the two boys flanking their father, each holding a bottle of holy water.

Dean really didn't like the plan much. The demons were holing up in a deserted barn of some sort on the edge of town and since it was unlikely that they could successfully and safely lure the demons to them, they were going to the demons. Normally, Dean wouldn't have a problem with this head-on approach. He _liked_ that kind of thing. But when the plan relied on Sam being able to hold the demons still long enough that they could go through a full exorcism. Yeah. Really _not_ liking that.

However, he had been overruled. Sam had been apologetic, but he just hadn't been able to see any other way and his younger brother had always wanted to be useful. It didn't help that he felt he had something to prove to their father...

Dean sighed, forcing his mind back on the present. He'd just have to be careful enough for all of them. _We know we're in trouble when __**I'm **__the cautious one._

...

John and Dean each took one of the two barn door's handles. They glanced at each, then both glanced at Sam, reassuring everyone was ready.

Sam took a deep breath, then nodded. The two older Winchesters threw open the doors and Sam took a cautious step inside.

Almost immediately, he felt a cold chill enter his mind and he knew that the demons were there.

It was confirmed a mere second later. "Ah, Samuel Winchester. I have to say, you weren't the one we were expecting."

A demon stepped out of the shadows before him. A tall, large man stood there, looking him up and down with a piercing gaze.

"I imagine the other two are around here somewhere?" the demon raised an eyebrow, glancing around a little as if he expected to see the other two Winchesters appear out of thin air at any moment. "Oh, well. Perhaps they need a little bit of encouragement, hmm? Let's test those reflexes of yours, shall we?"

It was the only warning Sam had. Out of pure instinct, he looked up just in time to see the demons dropping down from the rafters, landing on either side of him.

_I can't believe I fell for that. I've __**used**__ that! _

The two demons lunged for Sam, who flung an outstretched hand towards the third demon, knocking him back with great force into the wall behind him. His arm was grabbed a moment later, the two demons trying to wrestle him down to the floor.

He had to give the two demons credit. They were stubborn.

He pushed and pushed at them, but they held on with grips of iron and he was sure that if he pushed at them any more, they would fly...and take his arms with them.

_Crap! Any time now, guys!_

They were supposed to follow him in immediately, but Sam assumed they had hung back when the demon spoke.

"SAM!"

Dean's voice was a welcome reprieve from the hissing and laughing of the two demons who had forced him to his knees and were trying to get him all the way on the ground, despite his efforts otherwise.

It was the opportunity Sam needed.

He used the two demon's sudden distraction against them, flinging both away from him with his mind, then scrambling to his feet. His father and brother moved in on either side of him, Dean laying a hand on his arm.

"You okay?" he sounded concerned.

Sam nodded. "Fine. You could have waited a little longer, I mean, I was having fun."

At least Dean looked embarrassed. "Shut up, Sammy."

"Boys." John's voice was low and sharp, a warning.

Neither of them had needed one. Each was prepared to face the oncoming demons, facing their opponent.

Three Winchesters. Three demons.

_Not really fair, is it? They don't have a chance. _Sam held back a snort. _Sounds like a line from one of Dean's ridiculous movies._

"Ready, Sammy?" Dean murmured.

"Just give the word." Sam replied.

The demons charged, Sam threw out a hand, Dean flung holy water, and John tensed, prepared to start with the latin.

Dean grinned tightly, adrenaline already running through his system.

Sam felt the power in the room shift, more than it should have despite the force of him holding the demons still with his mind.

Something wasn't right.

_I wonder if I can read a demon's mind._

There was no time for Sam to fear the consequences of what he was about to try. Time was short.

He opened his mind to the demons.

There was no pain, but Sam had never felt more...unsettled than he felt now. The demons writhed, _thrived_ in the darkness. It penetrated every inch of him, making him shiver and whimper a little.

He felt Dean's eyes on him immediately, but ignored him, even as his older brother reached for him, calling his name softly in concern.

The young psychic probed a little, forcing his way past the darkness, trying to find the _reason_ for the _wrong_ he felt in the air.

One of the demons laughed. "Ah, ah, Sammy. That isn't a good idea."

Sam gritted his teeth.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean.

John's eyes were on him as well.

"Something's wrong." Sam grunted.

_There. _Sam pulled out of the demon's minds, barely managing to keep their hold on them as the _light_ flooded his mind once more.

Sam didn't have time to explain what he had found. "Down!" he shouted at his brother, hoping his father would follow suit.

Dean dropped just in time to avoid a demon's swiping arm from the dark shadows around the edges of the barn that even the light from the windows and open door seemed unable to penetrate.

Sam stretched with his powers, managing to yank two more demons forward into the light where they could be seen.

He wasn't sure how many more he could hold. Despite the miracle that had occurred, the strength he had managed to find somewhere, in order to stop the demon's escaping from ****...Sam wasn't sure he would be as lucky this time. He was tired. It had been a long few weeks and the string of difficult hunts were getting to him, the nights of restless sleep because of injuries, because of worry or stress.

"Dad!" he gasped.

John didn't hesitate, immediately pushing himself to his feet, beginning to recite the latin needed to send all the demons back to ****.

With harsh cries and yells, the demons all crashed into the ground, leaving dark burnt stains where they had hit.

John turned to Sam when it was over, his eyes flashing. "Go sit in the car. Dean and I are going to check and see if any of the hosts are still alive."

His father was livid. Dean reacted instantly, his fists clenching at the tone with which his father spoke to Sam, but Sam just shook his head in Dean's direction and turned, heading back to the car.

_This is bad._

...

Sam couldn't find it in him to speak to Dean on the way back. Dean had squeezed his shoulder in support, but hadn't said anything.

It was silent until they got into the motel room.

"WHAT WAS _THAT?_" John demanded, completely livid. "What are you hiding from me, Sam? You don't go into a hunt with secrets, boy, that's the rule! You don't _keep information from me_! You hear me? What happened?"

Sam struggled not to flinch. It had been years since he had been frightened of his father, years since the last time he had flinched at his father's approach or when his father raised a hand.

Amazing how fast it could all come back.

To Sam's relief, Dean jumped in immediately. "Hey! Don't talk to him like that! You're one to talk about keeping information back! How many times have you told us to _go_ here or _go _there without giving us any more information? Perhaps if you tried to, you know, _call us_ or something every once in a while, you would_ know_ _what's going on_!_" _

Sam was surprised at how mad Dean sounded. Usually, Dean was calmer when it came to their father.

John pursed his lips, looking ticked, but holding his tongue for the moment.

Dean glanced at Sam, questioningly.

Sam knew what he was asking and hesitated, then nodded. _He hates me anyway, how much worse could it get?_ Sam's mind instantly piped up with at least one way it could get worse but he stamped down on the flare of doubt and fear. Dean had his back. Maybe John wouldn't be _too_ mad... _Yeah right._

"Sam...Sam can read minds."

The room was silent for a second, the two boys waiting for their father's reaction, John too shocked to speak or even _think_.

"_What?" _

The word was low and angry and Sam tensed. _Crap._ He stood from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his position at Dean's shoulder. Dean didn't take his eyes from their father, but Sam could see him relax a little, relax now that he had his partner, his best friend, at his back.

"Sam can read minds. Long story short, this powerful psychic creature attacked him and...crap, how did Castiel explain it?...basically it ripped a wound open in his mind and kinda...opened him to the new power. Sam isn't evil or anything, just more than what the angels originally intended. He can control it, can turn it off or whatever." Dean explained, his voice surprisingly patient and soft considering how irritated he had sounded earlier.

John stared at the two of them, practically vibrating with the force of his rage. "So you...what, opened your mind to those demons? Seriously, Sam? What the heck is wrong with you? And _how could you not tell me about something so important? _How can I trust you to have my back if you don't tell me what's going on?"

Sam exploded at that. "Oh, like you've _ever_ really trusted me!" He froze. _Crap. _

John gave him a sharp look. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Dean grabbed Sam's wrist in his hand, quieting his younger brother. "Sam read your mind when we were first walking up to you. We, um...we had just had an argument and Sam was looking...looking for proof. Well..." Dean's eyes hardened. "He found it."

John stiffened. "You had no business crawling though my head, Sam." he barked sharply.

Dean opened his mouth to defend Sam's actions, but John held up a hand.

"I don't want to hear any more excuses." John seemed to struggle for words for a second, then shook his head. "I appreciate your boys help. I have a hunt two states over and it's not going to wait while we have a heart to heart." John glared at Sam, pointing a warning finger at him. "Samuel, you read my mind again, violent my privacy like that..." John trailed off, the threat clear in his tone, his form shaking with his anger. "Well, you've been warned. _Don't do it again._"

Dean reacted to that immediately, lunging forward and grabbing a surprised John by his shirt. "Don't you _dare_ threaten him." he snarled. He had never been so...enraged with their father. Seems there was a lot of firsts going on today.

John pulled out of Dean's grip, then stalked over to the door, threw it open, then slamming it shut behind him with a harsh crash.

Sam sat heavily on the bed, hiding his face in his hands, his whole body trembling.

Dean was immediately at his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sammy." he said softly. "It...It'll be okay, kiddo. You'll see. He'll come around. He's just freaking out a little right now."

To himself, Dean determined they would avoid their father till he came to his senses. If he didn't...well, that was a sacrifice Dean was prepared to make. He wouldn't let Sam get hurt. Not physically and not emotionally.

Dean wasn't sure he could ever forgive his father for actually threatening Sam.

Dean bumped his shoulder against Sam's gently and Sam looked up at him. Dean felt his heart tug painfully at Sam's tortured expression. Dean pulled him into a hug. "It'll be okay, Sam. You'll see." he paused, then finally. "Let's get outta here, kiddo."

...

It was quiet for hours after they got back on the road. Sam was lost in his thoughts, Dean trying to figure out how to help him.

"Dean." Sam's voice was quiet, rough.

Dean glanced over at him. "Sammy?"

Sam hesitated, looking Dean in the eye after a moment of painful deliberation on his part. "Y-you know...you know I wouldn't...won't read your mind, right? I wouldn't invade your privacy like that. I wouldn't. I-I promise."

Dean paused for a moment. _That's what was bothering him. _He pulled the car over to the side of the road, wanting to be able to look at Sam for this.

Sam looked nervous now, not able to meet his eyes.

"Sammy." Dean's voice was incredibly soft and the lack of anger drew Sam's gaze up to his older brother's.

"Sam. I trust you. I mean it, kiddo. I trust you."

Sam smiled softly up at his brother after a moment, shy but content. "Thanks, Dean. You know that-that goes both ways right?"

Dean smiled brightly and nodded. "I know."

Knowing the moment was over, Dean turned, pulling the car back out onto the road.

Sam leaned back in the seat. All was right between them. The tension was long gone, any pain or old unpleasant memories were fading into the background. They were okay. _We're okay. _

Memories of the brother's fight, the mess with the demons, the resulting rage of their father and even the threat his father had unleashed faded away with the knowledge that Dean trusted him, that he wasn't alone. _I never was. _The revelation hit him. _Dean was just a little side-tracked, a little __overwhelmed for awhile. __**I never was alone**__. _

Sam looked over at his big brother. Dean was humming with the music, a content look on his face, his fingers drumming on the wheel. A strong sense of peace filled the youngest Winchester and that's when he knew. _I never needed the apple pie life. A safe life. I never needed a house, a large family, or consistent schooling. I never needed to be normal or even have my dad's trust. I needed Dean. I __**need**__ Dean. This? This is home. _

And with that, Sam faced the road ahead, feeling more prepared for whatever may come their way with the surety that Dean would be by his side no matter what happened.

_Bring it on, world. I'm ready._

...

_I'll be there for you  
When the rain starts to pour  
I'll be there for you  
Like I've been there before  
I'll be there for you  
'Cuz you're there for me too..._

_No one could ever know me  
Seems you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me  
Someone to face the day with  
Make it through all the rest with  
Someone I'll always laugh with  
Even at my worst I'm best with you._

_- I'll Be There for You, by the Rembrandts_


End file.
